


Under the Sea is a Banger

by dapatty



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, Kissing, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-28 01:18:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15037541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dapatty/pseuds/dapatty
Summary: 9.) Brendan/Spencer or Brendan and Spencer - a funeral





	Under the Sea is a Banger

**Author's Note:**

> Dear prompter, this totally ended up a meet-cute without any sad because that’s how this marshmallow rolls. Sorry? You’re welcome?

The lights of the strip still held that glamorous promise, all flash even in the desert heat. He could practically taste those late nights. Even a decade removed from the blur of sweat and too many drinks, the promise of a good time beckoned. But he hadn’t come to town for anything fun in the slightest.

Vegas had been a hurricane of destruction for him after high school. He’d barely clawed his way out. If Ryan hadn’t called for moral support to attend his aunt’s funeral, Spencer would still be at home in LA catching up on work. Or as Ryan kept referring to it: “Your self-imposed work exile. Seriously, just because you’re sober, doesn’t mean you can’t go out.” 

Which was _not_ what he was doing. He was just managing his life in a responsible way that didn’t end in three day benders and jail cells. 

And like. Whatever. He totally had fun. Not like dragging him to this funeral counted as fun. Well, until the the music portion of the funeral started and it wasn’t the usual dirges. Nope, Ryan’s great aunt wanted a lounge singer. Based on this guy’s suit alone, his song choice promised to be unorthodox. Sure, this was Vegas, but Spencer was pretty sure that shiny green suits would have been declasse even on the floor of the MGM Grand. But _this guy._ With his slicked back puff of brown hair and his smooth everything. Shit, he was crooning. Nothing about this dude should work and _yet_.

Spencer discreetly shifted in his seat to alleviate how tight his pants suddenly fit. 

_Oh no,_ Spencer thought to his great horror. He’s cute.

Then his mind kind of skittered to a halt when he realized the guy was singing Frank Sinatra’s “That’s Life.” 

Spencer started to speak, but Ryan elbowed him hard in the ribs. He tried to convey, “What? Like I wasn’t gonna whisper?!? I’m having a crisis about shiny crotches!” with his frown with a side of a glare. 

Ryan shot back a knowing look and rolled his eyes as if to say, “Of course. His shiny ass is so your type.” 

Spencer crossed his arms and sank more fully in the chair and tried his absolute best not to stare at the singer. 

He failed. Failed so hard that the guy met his eyes long enough to wink at Spencer. Spencer felt the heat of his blush all the way down his neck and averted his gaze. The last forty-five minutes of the funeral service were the longest minutes in his whole life.

***

The lounge singer sidled up to him as Spencer was trying to figure out if he’d stayed long enough to be polite. Ryan had disappeared off somewhere with a cute waiter twenty minutes ago, abandoning Spencer to polite small talk with a family friend. Spencer had finally managed to maneuver out of that very handsy situation.

Spencer did not startle at the guy’s appearance. Well, much. He didn’t even spill any of his glass of water on the guy. Small favors. 

“Hi there,” he smiled and honest to fuck, batted his eyelashes.

“Hi,” Spencer smiled back, more than a little charmed, and tried not to leer. 

“So, I’m Brendon,” he said, long fingers resting on his chest, “and you are?” 

“Spencer. Nice to meet you,” Spencer held out a hand. Brendon took it and pulled it up to his lips, touching a kiss on the back. 

“Charmed,” Spencer was certain his smile had gone a bit wobbly with just how overwhelmed he was and his cheeks felt so hot. He was so gone on this guy already. Sheesh.

“Well, you want to get out of here or are you waiting on that cute boy you were with earlier?” Brendon asked, his face open and hopeful.

“My best friend will understand if I bail,” Spencer said, gratefully. “He knows my type.”

“Oh yeah?” Brendon looked so pleased. “In that case, I’ve got a passenger seat with your name on it. How do you feel about tacos?”

“They’re delicious and we’re burning daylight.”

***

Brendon had an old Cadillac convertible, one of those giant metal monstrosities from the Seventies, painted candy apple red with white leather seats. The car was just as ridiculous as its owner, who’d shed his suit jacket to reveal a white short sleeve button up and a full sleeve of tattoos peeking out.

The tattoos occupied Spencer’s fantasies about exploring the extent of that sleeve, and finding out if he had anything else to discover when they made it to Brendon’s home later. And oh, Spencer was definitely going home with the guy.

Tacos turned out to be from a food truck that Brendon swore was the best he’d ever had and they were damn good. They ate hunkered in the shade of the truck while arguing about the best Disney movies. 

“You are so wrong about The Little Mermaid, dude,” Brendon insisted.

“I’m not though,” Spencer said. “She’s totally an anthropologist who just happens to fall in love.”

“Well, I don’t entirely disagree, but come on, Under the Sea is a banger!” Brendon bumped his shoulder with Spencer’s companionably.

Spencer looked up and forgot what he was going to say. Brendon’s eyes shone bright, a gleam of a smile reflected back at him. The sight made him catch his breath. A bit of sauce clung to the corner of Brendon’s mouth and Spencer reached out with his thumb before he could give it conscious thought.

“Something on my face?” Brendon lifted an eyebrow, going for coy but breath catching as Spencer’s thumb made contact. 

“Yeah,” Spencer wiped it off and decided to jump in feet first. “So, I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?”

“Thought you were gonna dance around it all night,” Brendon said, grinning as Spencer leaned in.

“Oh, we can still dance,” Spencer said and then he was pressing his lips against Brendon’s, tasting salt and a little of the sweetness from the soda he’d been drinking. Then Brendon tilted his head just-so and it was perfect. 

“I know just the place,” Brendon said, pulling back and looking as dazed as Spencer felt. 

“Are you about to say ‘your bedroom?’” Spencer asked, grinning.

“Well, I was gonna suggest a club that I like, but I’m totally open to moving things to a more secluded location,” Brendon said, trying to school his face to look cool about it, but failing to contain his glee if the smile he couldn’t keep down was anything to go by.

“The night is young,” Spencer said.

“Fuck the night, I was prepared to woo you with sunset and dancing and then take you home, but I’m flexible,” Brendon said, tossing his napkin into the trash and reaching out his hand.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Spencer said, smiling while he took Brendon’s hand. Maybe Vegas wasn’t so terrible after all.


End file.
